


throw the dagger and it might land

by Hazazel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Amnesia, Aristocrat Tsukishima Kei, M/M, Trans Yamaguchi Tadashi, Unsafe Binding Techniques
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazazel/pseuds/Hazazel
Summary: Tadashi decided to remain with the circus troupe. There wasn’t any reason not to – no memory of a welcoming place could plague his thoughts, and the fear, the everlasting fear of having to run away, still shook him deep into his core. So Tadashi stayed, and he learned. Not what you’d learn in school, but skills nonetheless, and at the age of eighteen, he could say for himself that he could throw a knife into a man’s skull from fifteen feet away – or, as he more often did, juggle with torches and ribbons.“Come see the circus !” he’d say to passers-by, and they’d look at him in his colourful outfit – minty blue and orange hues, dazzling with sparkles – and they’d smile and know the circus was in town. They came back, sometimes, to this lost city of theirs, and Tadashi soon understood that he was not the only one to have lost something important in this place, something worth coming back for.--tsukiyama circus au for the hqss
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47
Collections: Haikyuu Secret Santa 2019





	throw the dagger and it might land

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amrynth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amrynth/gifts).



> happy holidays everyone !!!! this fanfic is for amrynth, who was my giftee in the haikyuu secret santa !!! the prompts were tsukiyama and circus!au, which........... you'll see. i sure hope everyone reading it will like it because i had tons of fun writing it !!!  
> please note that yamaguchi is trans in this story and (as it is set in the victorian era), he bonds with bandages. do NOT do that in real life !!!! bind safely !!!!!! don't damage your ribs !!!!
> 
> happy holidays again and don't forget that if you can't comment, kudos mean the world

Bandaged chest and bandaged hands, Tadashi barely made it to the tent before he collapsed on the floor, breath short. He’d been running, running away for so long, that he’d forgotten how good it felt to stop.

“Hi,” a man with chestnut hair said, obviously trying to be reassuring. “You’re in for the circus tryouts,” he guessed.

“N-no,” Tadashi said, and he opened his eyes wide with fear – he meant to say yes, but – he was so afraid – his thoughts all jumbled around in his head and he couldn’t breathe.

The man seemed to notice that immediately, and he called for someone to help him carry Tadashi inside. Gentle hands pried his fingers away from his face and he saw a smiling face in front of him. The man had silver hair and a beauty mark near his eyes, and he was so beautiful that, for a moment, Tadashi feared he’d died and this was the angel welcoming him to heaven – only, he was supposed to go to hell, so this didn’t add up.

“Hi there,” the angel said, “I’m Suga. We’re gonna take care of you, alright ?”

Too afraid to talk, Tadashi weakly nodded, and the angel Suga carried him inside of a warm caravan, where he was bundled up into a thick blanket.

“I’ll get you something to eat,” he said to Tadashi, who couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to notice he was gone. “Here you go,” he said when he came back. “Eat while it’s still warm.”

The meatbun was simple, the seasoning sparse and the meat obviously a lower quality cut, but it was the most delicious thing Tadashi had ever tasted. He fell asleep soon after, Suga telling him to get some rest, and he remembered nothing of that night when he woke up the next morning.

To be fair though, he remembered nothing at all.

  
  


* * *

  
  


After a little talk from Oikawa, Tadashi decided to remain with the circus troupe. There wasn’t any reason not to – no memory of a welcoming place could plague his thoughts, and the fear, the everlasting fear of having to run away, still shook him deep into his core. So Tadashi stayed, and he learned. Not what you’d learn in school, but skills nonetheless, and at the age of eighteen, he could say for himself that he could throw a knife into a man’s skull from fifteen feet away – or, as he more often did, juggle with torches and ribbons.

“Come see the circus !” he’d say to passers-by, and they’d look at him in his colourful outfit – minty blue and orange hues, dazzling with sparkles – and they’d smile and know the circus was in town. They came back, sometimes, to this lost city of theirs, and Tadashi soon understood that he was not the only one to have lost something important in this place, something worth coming back for.

Tadashi’s memory remained dark as a black hole, shadow figures dancing at the edge of his mind, never close enough to be recognisable.

Suga said it was alright – family is found, not given, and he’d been gifted with so many friends that complaining about a life long lost hadn’t even occurred to him. Suga, Iwaizumi and Oikawa were protective of their lot, and Tadashi felt safe with them. They gave him work and shelter, and he didn’t have to beg for scraps anymore.

Anymore ? Had he begged for scraps before ? Something, a memory or a dream, scurried off at the edge of his mind, lost again to the well of knowledge he had no access to. It was ok, though, it really was. He’d found a home and no one would take it away from him.

* * *

  
  


When Tadashi turned twenty, Oikawa took him apart from the rest of the troupe during dinner, and looked at him so seriously and for so long he thought something awful had happened.

“Oikawa-san,” he said eventually, breaking the silence with hesitant words. “Is there something wrong ?”

“Tadacchan, we’re going back to the city tomorrow, you know that.”

“I know,” Tadashi answered, puzzled as to why this was an issue.

“I want you to perform there,” Oikawa said after taking a long inhale that almost left Tadashi dizzy.

“Oh. You mean… In front of people there.”

Tadashi hadn’t been a regular member of the show – he’d mostly fill in for others when they were in a pinch, he’d done gigs, but never a full number. Knowing he’d do one _there_ – he’d never been on stage _in that city_ , always remaining hidden backstage, for fear of…

He nodded gravely. “I’ll do it,” he told Oikawa. “I’m not running away.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Oikawa answered proudly. “Prepare well, all right ?”

“You know I will,” Tadashi said with a smile.

These days, he’d been practising his aim, and he was certain he would do the circus justice. He knew that whatever was out there, he’d be ready to handle.

Sometimes though, life is a little more exciting than planned.

* * *

  
  


Tadashi threw the first knife and immediately knew he’d missed. A strand of Mika’s hair fell on the ground, and his breathing quickened until she raised both hands in reassurance – it was code for “I’m unharmed”.

“You need to calm down,” she told him, “or you’re gonna hit me right between the eyes without even wanting to.”

“Aah, Mika, don’t say that !” Tadashi cried, and he rubbed energetically at his face. “I’d never forgive myself if I hurt any of you.”

“I know, you doofus,” she answered, and she rubbed affectionately at his hair. Mika had arrived in the circus only last year, but it felt like she’d been part of that well-oiled machinery for much longer. She was, primarily, an assistant on some of their gigs, but lately she’d been practising with Suga and his horses, and soon, she’d be able to join him in an actual show. For now she was Tadashi’s target practice – and being so distracted by their location made his hands shake.

“You’ll do great, lil chick,” Terushima said when Tadashi came back to the caravan they both lived in. They were so laid back the words could have barely affected him, but when Terushima actually got up from their chair, wincing in pain, and held Tadashi’s hands close to their heart, he knew they’d meant everything they said.

“I’m so nervous…” Tadashi almost whined. “I don’t wanna mess up.”

“We all mess up,” they bitterly answered. “Look, what matters, is that you have fun. As long as you had fun, it was worth it.”

“Did you have fun,” Tadashi whispered. “I know your injury-”

“I wasn’t having fun when it happened,” they said seriously. “I won’t let it happen again.”

Terushima held Tadashi’s hands close to their chest once more, before returning to their bed and grumbling that they needed some sleep before tomorrow’s show. Tadashi also went to bed, and he woke up with his throat dry and his stomach in knots. Suga ruffled his hair at the breakfast table, and went away to take care of his horses, while Iwaizumi and Bokuto discussed their acrobatics of the day.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this nervous,” Tadashi murmured to the grass in front of the tent. “Please make it a good one.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


The thunderous applause at the end of the show, and the three times they were called back in the ring by a cheering crowd, made Tadashi’s heart sing. He’d done good, he’d done really good actually – Terushima raised both thumbs up from their place in the first row, and Suga made sure to clap his back extra hard.

“You didn’t even graze me !” Mika said enthusiastically as they went back to their caravans. “You’ve been getting better without even telling me, you rascal ! And what did you think of-”

She abruptly stopped talking when she noticed someone loitering next to the back of the tent. People were usually happy the circus arrived, but after one too many fire hazards that were not as hazardous as the police made it seem, they’d all become cautious.

“Yamaguchi,” the intruder called. “It’s – it’s really you. It’s you, right ?” The stranger was a tall blond man, glasses barely hanging on his nose, breath short like he’d ran to be there on time. He was wearing an expensive looking suit, and his shoes, though dirtied by the mud, looked like they were more than the circus’ entire earnings of the day. “You – you do remember me, do you ?”

“Excuse me,” Mika said sharply. “Who are you ?”

“I’m – Yamaguchi, it’s me.”

“I don’t know you,” Tadashi said, voice choked. Brief flashes of running in a field of flowers, of holding hands and letting go – no, he did not know that man. He was a different person entirely. “I’m sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else.”

“Tadashi,” the man said. It seemed to cost him enormously to utter this simple word. “I know-”

“You don’t know anything,” Mika said, scalding. “Please leave, or I’ll have you escorted out.”

The tall man stared at Tadashi a little longer, obviously torn between fury and loss, but he left without adding a word. Tadashi and Mika resumed their walk to the caravans, and they went up to Mika and Shimizu’s shared one, which was empty for now. Mika ushered him in, and forced him to sit down on an ottoman so enormous he was immediately enveloped by thick pink corduroy.

“Do you know this man,” she eventually said, after pacing a few times in the very limited free space. “Do not lie, I will know.”

“I don’t remember,” Tadashi honestly answered. Mika was new enough to the troupe that she hadn’t been made aware of Tadashi’s amnesia, but she knew he only went by his chosen name – Yamaguchi, who was that ? He was so different from the wretch the circus had saved, that he didn’t know if he even was the same person as the one this man had known.

Yamaguchi, who was that ? Without any name to search for his past life, Tadashi had given up on finding out more, but now an opportunity was offered to _know_ – to know _for sure_ , to reconnect with the child he’d been.

Did he want to seize it ?

“I need time to think,” Tadashi said to Mika, and she gently walked him back to his caravan, where Terushima was fast asleep.

“You should sleep as well,” she advised, “today’s been a busy day. I’ll take your clean up duty, you’ll owe me one !” she cheerfully added.

“Thank you, Mika,” Tadashi whispered, but she was already gone, and as he undid the bandages compressing his chest, finally enjoying a full inhale, he wondered – if Tadashi was his chosen name, how come the stranger had known it ?

  
  


* * *

  
  


They left the city without their usual flurry of goodbyes. They’d done two other shows after that first one, and the blond stranger had shown up to neither. Tadashi didn’t know if he should be surprised, relieved or sad, and the three feelings clashed loudly in his head, each trying to make itself heard more than the others. He’d done two more gigs of knife throwing, and both had gone really well. Now, if only his head could quiet down – Tadashi didn’t have such luck.

As Oikawa yelled for the first caravan to start moving onward to their new destination, a horse galloped closer to the convoy.

“Please,” a polite voice asked, “please, can I-”

“Yahoo,” Oikawa coldly said, but the man didn’t flinch, like most people did when Oikawa got this intense. “Care to explain ?”

“I was going to,” the blond man said in a stiff voice. “I want to – please, let me talk to Tadashi.”

“And why would I let you do that ?”

“He doesn’t remember me,” the man said. “He doesn’t know who I am.”

Tadashi was in the very next carriage, hidden under several layers of wool to keep the cold of the winter away, which was why the man hadn’t seen him, but he could hear everything.

“Go away,” Oikawa said much more gently. “You’re in the past now, you can’t do him any good.”

This is all in the past now – where had he heard that sentence before ? Who had said it, was it him or that man ? Did he want to know ? The questions whirled in his head faster and faster, until he couldn’t stand them and decided to get out of the carriage.

“Oikawa-san, can he accompany us for a little while ?” he asked. “I… I want to talk to him. Hear what he has to say.”

“You’ll both talk when we arrive. Go back to bed, Tadashi, you need it.”

“Alright,” Tadashi and the man said at the same time, and Oikawa gave a faint smile.

Tadashi’s dream were strange. Filled with chiffon dresses, a giant suitcase threatened to swallow him whole, but he was saved at the last moment by a tiny blond figure, who yelled louder than Tadashi could hear and-

He woke up in a cold sweat, Terushima shaking him slightly.

“You seemed like you were having a nightmare,” they said, mouth a thin line. “Are you sure you want to know what the past held for you ?”

“I don’t know what I want,” Tadashi said, and he was surprised to feel wetness on his cheeks – had he cried in his sleep ? It hadn’t happened in a long while. “I think… I want to give him a chance. He calls me Tadashi, you know.”

“As you wish, little bird,” Terushima ended up saying, before they limped back to their seat.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The camp was set up miles away from all traces of civilisation. They’d journeyed from dawn to dusk, and only the lack of light, which came early, as it was winter, forced them to stop. Terushima was installed closest to the fire, and Tadashi, chest bandages firmly on, heaved under the weight of the massive posts and ropes that kept the horses together for the night. The blond man was like a sore in the middle of this well oiled routine – motionless, he stood out by his height, his hair and his clothes – obviously too expensive for any one of them to afford.

Once they’d set everything up, cooking started, and the man was enrolled by Oikawa to help with potato peeling. He proved utterly useless, which provoked the hilarity of most of the circus members.

“What’s an aristocrat like you doing chasin’ after our Tadashi,” Mika eventually asked. Tadashi was grateful for the venom in her tone – she had his back.

“He’s my best friend,” the man honestly answered, which took everyone aback.

“I don’t know who you are,” Tadashi said, after staying quiet for a little while.

“My name is Tsukishima Kei,” he said. “You’re – your parents lived next to mine. They didn’t like either of us, and… One day, you ran away.”

What he didn’t say, but which was obvious in his tone, was “I’ve been chasing you ever since”, and Tadashi was convinced it was true.

“What did I call you ?” he asked, intuition whispering at his ear – nicknames. Kids did that, right ? Kids gave each other nicknames, new names even, and those were the real ones until adulthood caught up and ate the sweetness out of their mouths.

Tsukishima blushed, a rosy dew on his cheeks, and he answered, “You called me Tsukki.”

“Tsukki,” Tadashi said, testing how the word felt in his mouth. “Sorry,” he added, “I really don’t remember you.” Tsukishima seemed bitter at those words. His face contorted into a pained expression that Tadashi felt horribly bad about. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Tsukishima seemed resolved, after that, and he told Tadashi, “You always made me proud.”

Later that night, after Tsukishima had gone off in the distance, towards the city and his life that Tadashi knew nothing about, his tears still hadn’t stopped dripping from his eyes, a few at a time, continuing until he fell asleep.

* * *

“Welcome to the circus !” Tadashi bellowed from high up on his stilts, and he twirled with reckless abandon. “Welcome the acrobats, welcome the fire tamer, welcome the knife thrower !”

“How long’s it been since ye last came, lad ?” someone from the crowd asked, and Tadashi honestly answered that he had no idea. Months, most certainly. Maybe even years. “Ye oughtta come more often !”

“Rest assured, we’re still the best,” Mika answered, tongue in cheek. She also stood on stilts, and they caracoled around the main street, in an endless merry-go-round. Tadashi’s bandaged chest hurt more than it had before, coming to this city. He wondered – he didn’t dare hope. But oh, how he wondered, if a tall blond man with glasses perched atop his nose would show up.

He still recalled nothing of the past, and hadn’t wished to remember, but… the thought of someone, chasing after him on his horse, spending the evening around the campfire, waiting to ask Tadashi this one question – he wondered what had cut so deep into Tsukishima that the wound hadn’t healed. He wondered if forgetting meant that his own wounds were healed, or is they just froze at a certain point in time, and if remembering would open them up. He wondered, he wondered, and he twirled around on stilts chasing light-haired heads with a nagging voice whispering in his ear that it was too late.

The first performance was always the trickiest. Circuses relied on word of mouth to get known, and if a first show was a success, the next ones would be full with the ones who’d heard about it but had turned up their noses at all the ruckus. And in Tadashi’s own opinion, this night’s performance was truly one of their best.

Mika and Suga, in equilibrium on horsebacks, turned round and round the ring, while Oikawa shouted at the crowd honey-sweet words that Tadashi could never remember, but which always made him dream of toffee. Then came Iwaizumi and his acrobatics, Bokuto and his mime, and finally, Tadashi and his knives.

“I’d like a generous member of the audience to volunteer for this last stunt !” Oikawa said to the mesmerised crowd, “I want to see hands raised up high, more hands, more hands !”

More hands, more hands, the words resonated under the tent, and whispers ran along the gathered crowd. A few scattered people dared raise their hands, and Oikawa selected a child from the first few rows, who climbed up a stool and showed a frightened smile to the audience. “Your turn,” Oikawa whispered to Tadashi, voice hoarse.

Tadashi knew what he had to do. The knives were an extension of his hands, the blades not more dangerous than kitten claws, and he twirled the first one between his fingers without even looking. One, two, three, four, five knives snapped through the air, as if transported magically from one point to another, and sunk deep in the wood surrounding the child. The crowd, which had held their collective breath, released a wave of applause, and Tadashi saluted before leaving the ring for Oikawa to do his closing speech.

“You did well,” Iwaizumi patted him on the back, “I’m glad to have you here.”

“Thanks,” Tadashi said, a little puzzled. “I’m not leaving.”

Iwaizumi smiled warmly. “I know you’re not.”

“Good.” The exchange felt a little forced, and Tadashi wondered if anything had happened while he wasn’t backstage with the others.

When they were called back to the ring for the final ovation, Tadashi’s ears rang with the applause, and he felt a strange sensation at the pit of his stomach, like it’d be the last time he’d ever be there, with his friends – his family. It wasn’t true, he told himself. The circus had long years before it would ever shut down. Tadashi was just anxious about… he didn’t know what exactly.

Tsukishima hadn’t showed up.

Tadashi had to admit that he’d… yeah, he’d let himself hope.

When he didn’t see any blond hair at the final performance they gave in the city, he truly gave up and admitted to himself that no matter how many years had passed, no matter if he had moved on from being small and cold and hurt, and something in him ached for the embrace of someone long forgotten.

“Do you know where he lives ?” Tadashi asked Oikawa, while they were folding up the large cloth panels that made up the main tent. He did not have to precise who “he” was, and Oikawa nodded, but remained silent. “I want to…”

“You wanna go see him, yeah. What will you do if he’s moved on ?”

“I don’t know,” Tadashi admitted. “I guess it’ll just mean I’ll stop chasing after him.”

“You never were chasing after him, Tadacchan,” Oikawa reminded him. “You don’t even know who he is.”

“He does, though.”

“What can he give you ? You’re not looking for answers?”

“I am not,” Tadashi said plainly. “I don’t even miss him. But he does, though.”

“You’re doing this for the sake of a childhood friend who left you alone-” Oikawa spat, but then he clamped his mouth shut, like he’d made a mistake, like he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

“I never asked,” Tadashi said, voice a little cold. “I knew you knew, but I never asked. I didn’t want that past.”

“Why do you want it now ?” Oikawa ran his hand over his face, and for the first time, Tadashi thought he looked old and tired.

“I don’t,” Tadashi replied. “I want the future.”

Oikawa sighed, and smiled a little sadly, and said he’d write that all up as soon as they were done. Tadashi still had trouble reading, so he took his time at each intersection, waiting for carriages to pass by before he crossed the road, and he arrived in front of an elegantly decorated manor, door-knocker shaped like a crow’s beak. He only had to knock once before the door opened on a little servant, apron and hair in disarray.

“Master Tsukishima isn’t here,” she said quickly, but Tadashi had a hunch this wasn’t who he wanted to speak to.

“I’m looking for Tsukishima Kei,” he told her, and she squeaked.

“I’ll be right back !” she scurried off inside the house, like a busy little mouse.

Unless the manor was bigger on the inside, Tadashi thought she should have been much quicker in getting Tsukishima to the door, but the servant came back empty handed and alone, and piped up a high-pitched “Follow me ! Master Tsukishima will see you in the boudoir.”

Tadashi did so through a series of doors and corridors, until they finally reached the boudoir.

“Thank you, Inari,” Tsukishima said when they arrived, and she was off on her way too quickly for Tadashi to thank her as well.

He looked at the room, deeply uneasy. Everything, from floor to ceiling, was ostensibly opulent, and Tadashi looked like a disgusting rag forgotten behind after the nightly clean-up of the servants. The bandages around his chest seemed tighter, the bandages around his fingers felt out of place. Tsukishima looked at him, silent, waiting for him to speak.

“I’m sorry,” Tadashi started saying. “I still don’t know who you are.”

“It’s ok,” Tsukishima answered, but judging by the crease in his brow, it was not. He got up, and started pacing around the room, and it was Tadashi’s turn to remain quiet. “You’re here though, why ?”

“I’m not sure,” Tadashi admitted. “I guess I wanted to know why I meant so much to someone whose face I can’t even recall.”

Frown deeply set by now, Tsukishima sneered. “That’s not what you said last time we saw each other.”

“I’ve grown up since. I’m not afraid,” Tadashi said, and he felt his hard-gained self-confidence seep into his words. “I’m Tadashi for everyone, but to you, I meant something more. I’m… not sure of who I was when I knew you, but it’s not me anymore. I guess I wanted you to have the chance to move on as well.”

“Do you know who owns your circus,” Tsukishima asked out of the blue.

“I assume it’s Oikawa-san ?”

“It’s me,” Tsukishima said. “Well, it’s my father, but he left it to me. When you ran away – you went to the circus, because you thought I’d be there. Oikawa hid you, and pretended you’d left when you didn’t see me there. And then he took you away.”

“I…” Tadashi was left speechless. “Why did he do that ?” he wondered out loud. “I’m not someone important…”

“Oh, only the second biggest heir of the city,” Tsukishima said with a sneer. “That wouldn’t be too much, I guess.”

Tadashi’s breath left his mouth in a shaky exhale. “It can’t be…”

Tsukishima started speaking again, of two rival families, of m urder , and of children lost and found. Tadashi didn’t hear a word of it – he wasn’t in a state to process it. He’d ask Oikawa later on, ask if it was true, ask why. 

“Why,” Tsukishima said, “you’d want a foot into this now, I can’t understand.”

“Sorry, Tsukki,” Tadashi said before he could stop himself.

Tsukishima paled, all colour draining from his face. “Don’t. Don’t say that to me.”

Tadashi was escorted out by the same servant, who bowed deep when he left the manor, and he realised he’d forgotten all about where the circus was. Walking there from streetlamp to streetlamp, sometimes asking his way around, sometimes following the posters they’d left on the walls, took Tadashi more than an hour. Oikawa immediately harped on him, muttering “I’ve been worried sick,” before almost manhandling him into his office.

“What did the brat say ?” Oikawa asked, before Tadashi could even catch his breath. “If he lied to you, I’m going to skin him alive.”

“He apparently owns the circus, I’m not sure you’re allowed to do that,” he thinly smiled. “I don’t think he lied.” This time, Tadashi saw how affected by all this Oikawa seemed. His knuckles were white where he gripped his armchair too tight, and his jaw was clenched. “Oikawa-san,” he eventually whispered, “I don’t plan to leave.”

“I’m not sure you’ll have the choice. The brat is one thing, but if he tells his father about your presence here, you might as well be dead.”

“Dead ?” Tadashi couldn’t believe it. “Tsukishima told me I had a lot of money to my name, but I didn’t think it was enough to kill for.”

“You probably own half the city,” but Oikawa waved that all away, “what matters more is, who manages it now. And I’d bet on Iwa-chan’s head that it’s the Tsukishimas.”

“I don’t want any of it-” Tadashi started to say, but Oikawa cut him off.

“You _can’t_ have any of it. What matters now is how much you matter to the brat. How much he’ll be able to give up to have you back.”

Somehow, Tadashi sensed that it was both everything, and nothing at all.

The shows in the city ran as planned, three nights in a row. For the first time though, the tent was full even on opening night. They’d started to make a name for themselves, it seemed, and Tadashi enjoyed the whispers he provoked when he walked down the street to his favourite place in the city.

Few people knew he would be there – most of the circus probably thought he was spending his money elsewhere, but that shop – that shop was the place where he could have spent the rest of his days.

“Tadashi !” the owner said when she saw him enter. “Come in, come in ! I have news for you, yes, very good news.” She directed him between the aisles, up to a little recess in the back wall, where a little display was set up. “Amethyst, as pure as can be.”

Tadashi thanked her and went to do a little tour around the shop, mesmerised as always by the gemstones on the shelves. Brilliant green, a little shard of jade shone beautifully under candlelight, and he regretted once more to never have any money to his name – though apparently that wasn’t true – but he still couldn’t afford anything from this shop.

He saved the best for last, walking up lazily to the amethyst geode on display. The rock had cracked on one side, but for the most part, it was still intact, and you could only see the violet of the stone pop up through the cracks. Tadashi didn’t dare ask how much it was worth. As useless as they may be, he loved the stones, and he wanted to maintain the illusion he’d buy one some day.

A bell chimed, indicating someone else had entered the shop, and Tadashi flattened himself behind a shelf not to be seen. He didn’t stay long enough to see who it was – this place was his little secret and he didn’t want anyone knowing he went here.

Coming back to the circus, he met the servant from the day before – she scurried away past him without even noticing he was there, and he smiled a little at the sight of her, so small yet so determined. When he arrived at his caravan, he noticed everything wasn’t quite in order. A small crowd had gathered there, and for a moment Tsukishima’s words came back to him – that he might die if he were discovered. But soon enough, he noticed that instead of passers-by, it was a crowd of circus people.

Bracing himself, Tadashi elbowed his way through the crowd, and found out what he feared had happened. Terushima was on the floor, breath laboriously escaping his lips.

“What happened,” Tadashi asked around, but no one noticed him in the ruckus – he had to crouch down next to Terushima and hold his hand to get an answer.

“Tadacchan,” he said, mirroring Oikawa’s infuriating nickname-making. “I seem to have fallen from my chair an hour or so ago. Also I tried walking without a cane and it didn’t work,” and Tadashi could see the pain in his eyes.

Terushima had long ago accepted that he couldn’t walk without assistance, but sometimes, you just felt too bad with yourself to care. Tadashi held tight to his hand, and they waited for everyone to calm down enough – and for Oikawa to come.

“Shoo, all of you, go away,” he said as soon as he arrived. “Tadashi, help me get him into the caravan.”

Iwaizumi’s presence was enough to dispel the crowd, which had started gathering more than circus people at that point, and Tadashi and Oikawa hauled Terushima into his armchair.

“Will you be ok ?” Oikawa asked, hand grasping Terushima’s forearm tightly. “Tell me you’ll be ok.”

“I will, gee, don’t be such an old hag,” Terushima joked, but underneath it all Tadashi could sense the hurt. “Tadashi’s going to take good care of me.”

“I sure hope so,” Tadashi said, and he gently grabbed at Terushima’s other arm.

The circus was set to depart that night, but with how much everyone had been disturbed by Terushima’s fall, it was decided that they’d leave the next morning – and Tadashi, later on, wondered if things wouldn’t have been so different, hadn’t they gone this way. Come dawn, Tadashi was out of the caravan, preparing the horses for their long trip to the next city. He was crouching, cleaning the hooves of one of the horses, when he heard a discreet cough behind him. He turned around, expecting to see another circus member, or maybe a passer-by who’d ask when they were coming back.

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said. “I’m glad I could see you before you left.”

Oh. It was him – suddenly, Tadashi’s head emptied, and he could think of nothing to answer.

“I have-” the words left Tsukishima’s lips soured. “I have a present for you. And a chance to-” he seemed to not be able to speak any further, words clogging his throat.

“A present,” Tadashi repeated. “That’s… unexpected.”

“I’m not who you take me for,” was all Tsukishima answered. He dropped a heavy bundle of brown paper in Tadashi’s arms, and said, voice tight, “My father is on his deathbed. Soon I will manage the Tsukishima estate all on my own, and I want you to take back what’s yours.”

“I don’t want that.” The air seemed to leave his lungs at once. “I’m – my place is here. With the circus. I don’t want to leave,” Tadashi explained.

“I know.” Tsukishima seemed sad, suddenly. “Just take this then, and think of me when you come by.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


It took years for Tadashi not to wonder – and wonder, and wonder again, if life would have been different had he stayed. It took years and he still failed. And when he broke his promise – when he opened the package Tsukishima had given him, he felt a pang in his heart like never before. Want, a deeply-rooted need for the past to come back, overwhelming sadness. Oh, he’d guessed what was in it before he even opened it, but seeing the geode left him with his heart wrenched out of his chest.

Terushima, from his place near the campfire, held his hand tightly and whispered, “Ask and you can go.”

Tadashi smiled sadly, and realised it was true.

When you’re not travelling with a whole flotilla of caravans, it’s suddenly a lot faster and easier to get around. Tadashi was at the city in mere days, marvelling at how it hadn’t changed one bit, after all those years spent away. He had Tsukishima’s address memorised, but he still managed to get lost, though – the way there was lined with thoughts that seeped deep into the pavement, that left his mind empty and his heart quiet when he finally arrived in front of the knocker shaped like a crow.

“Oh !” Inara, or Inari, he’d forgotten, said when she saw him. “Come in, stay here. I’ll go get him.”

She rushed over to the back of the house and Tadashi was left alone at the entrance, his bag heavy on his shoulder, the bandages around his chest too tight to breathe.

Tsukishima had grown into a respectable man, as it seemed from his clothes, but he’d remained the same lanky figure Tadashi saw in his dreams and nightmares. “You came back,” he said, and Tadashi saw it in his eyes – wildfire hope.

“I opened your present. I wanted to say thank you,” he answered, and his hands clasped harder at the strap of his bag. Heavy, the geode sat at the bottom, but looking at Tsukishima – hair gone grey early, from worry and from loss – Tadashi couldn’t find it in him to give him his gift back.

“And you’ll leave again,” Tsukishima completed, voice as empty as Tadashi felt. It was like a dream you never wanted to wake up from, only Tadashi didn’t have these, and seeing the flames in Tsukishima’s eyes, he thought that he’d missed this man – he’d missed someone before he could even know them.

“Yeah, it seems like it.” Tadashi did not for a second want to stay. Cities were prisons to him, and this one – too many memories at every crossroad, that he couldn’t remember but felt deep in his heart.

Tsukishima looked at Tadashi’s clothes, splattered with mud, and a t his shoes, sole so used it started to tear. He looked at Tadashi’s face, craggy and wet with rainwater. He looked at the floor, seemingly lost in thought.

“I wish you’d stay with me,” he whispered, and Tadashi knew he wasn’t meant to hear it.

“I will,” Tadashi slowly said, and the wish he’d had – that same wildfire hope he saw in Tsukishima’s eyes, made him say the next words with more force than necessary, “I’ll stay with you. You just have to come with me.”

“I can’t-” Tsukishima started, but his voice ran out, leaving him broken and desperate. “I can’t follow.”

“Are you happy ?” Tadashi asked. “Will you at least tell me you’re happy ?”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” he spat, and then stopped dead in his tracks – “If I come, will you let me stay ?”

“As long as you desire,” Tadashi whispered.

Tsukishima stood frozen for a few moments, and then extended his hand towards Tadashi, who took the pale, long fingers in his own sun-kissed hand, and gently tugged.

Tsukishima followed.


End file.
